


Choose Your Own Adventure

by universallongings



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 20:42:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universallongings/pseuds/universallongings
Summary: Ginny and Mike have been keeping their relationship a secret for almost a year, but when she's nominated for the ESPY Award for Best MLB Player, it seems like the right time to let the world in on their secret.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing fic in five years; I thought I'd never do it again, but these two idiots pulled me back in. I hope you enjoy it!

When she was a little girl, Ginny Baker loved “Choose Your Own Adventure” books. She read them in the car on the long drives to practice, at night while she tried not to listen to her parents argue, and on weekends as she tried to forget that she didn’t have any friends to play with because the girls at school didn’t think it was cool to play baseball.

She couldn’t remember when she stopped reading those stories, but if she had to guess, it was when she had to make a choice of her own—between a dress and a glove—and she realized that sometimes it’s not fun to feel like you have to choose.

But when the news came—her second ESPY nomination in her two and a half years as a Padre and the first ceremony she could actually attend because she didn’t have a game the next day—she felt that long-forgotten excitement creep up her spine. It was time for her to make another choice, and this was an adventure she’d been waiting a long time to choose.

( _Almost a year_ , she thought to herself. Almost a year since the day he announced his retirement and showed up on her doorstep, smiling mischievously at her as he said, “I’m not a ballplayer anymore,” and his mouth was on hers before she could even close the door behind them. Almost a year since she first woke up to Mike Lawson’s beard tickling her as he kissed her bare shoulder and his eyes looking at her like maybe she really was as special as everyone said she was.)

She was in New York on a road trip to play the Yankees, and she knew it was a little early to be calling him back in San Diego. But when Ginny Baker set her mind to something, she didn’t like to wait. She didn’t want to talk herself out of this one.

“Hey, Rookie,” he murmured, his voice an octave lower than the voice the rest of the world gets to hear when he’s doing analysis on FOX. She could feel the heat spreading through her body at the memory of the many mornings when that same sleepy greeting was whispered into her neck, her stomach, the inside of her thigh…

She took a deep breath and collected her thoughts. Now was not the time to get distracted.

“Do you want to go to the ESPYs with me?” The question came out a little rushed, and suddenly she felt like a nervous teenage girl, asking the boy she had a crush on to the prom.  She never actually got to go to her prom, but she’s pretty sure taking the guy whose poster hung above her bed back then (a secret she will take to her grave) to the ESPYs would make up for that gap in her adolescent experience.

“You sure you want an old man like me on your arm for such a big night? I hear Drake and Rhianna are on the outs again, so he might be available.” She could almost hear his wink through the phone.

“First of all, you need more to do if you’re this up on your celebrity gossip. Retirement is for more than just watching E!, old man.” She eased herself back against her pillows as she heard his laughter echo through her phone, his happiness contagious. “Second, I’m sure,” she continued. “I’m ready, Mike.”

“Then let’s do this, Gin,” he replied, his voice taking on the sincere strength of her captain, her anchor in the storm that was sure to come. “You know what I’ve said since Day One: This is your call.”

He always let her call the shots. He was the first person to ever give her that power away from the diamond without any pressure. She wondered if he knew how much that meant to her—to finally feel like she could choose whatever path she wanted and would still have someone who supported her no matter what she chose. That warmth coursing throughout her body concentrated in the center of her chest, pushing away any lingering doubts she might have had.

She had spent too much of her life sacrificing one part of herself for another, living only half of a life. It was about time she let herself choose a new adventure.

\-----

Ginny always felt like she had to choose one or the other—the dress or the glove, the game she loved or the people she wanted to love, the public success or the private life. But for just one night, she was going to allow herself to have both.

For one night, choosing the glove didn’t mean she couldn’t choose the dress.

(And what a dress it was—white fabric draped around her in a style Amelia called “Grecian” but Ginny called “surprisingly comfortable,” every bit the dream prom dress Ginny would have chosen for herself if she would have been able to choose all those years ago.)

For one night, choosing the game she loved didn’t mean she couldn’t choose the guy she wanted.

(And what a guy he was—showing up in a black tuxedo and actually shaving his mountain-man beard down to an acceptable level of stubble, every bit the dream prom date teenage Ginny would have chosen for herself if she would have been able to choose all those years ago.)

Ginny silently congratulated herself on choosing the right dress when Mike’s eyes widened in surprise as they settled on its plunging neckline and the skin it exposed.

“Next time warn a man when you’re going to open the door looking like that,” he teased, “or no more presents for you.” He handed her a single red rose as he stepped into her hotel suite.

Ginny took the flower and turned around to put it on a table in the suite’s living room, purposely swaying her hips a little more than usual because she knew he’d appreciate the way the dress accented his favorite part of her anatomy. “I’m sorry—is it too much for your poor old ticker?” she shot back, glancing over her shoulder and trying to maintain a playful tone, which was getting harder after seeing the hungry look in his eyes. “I could always go change if you can’t handle it.” She punctuated her last words with a deliberately dramatic lean to place the flower just right. He was almost too easy to tease.

Suddenly, his strong hands were turning her around so she could face him before sliding over her ass through the fabric of her dress.

“Oh I think I can handle it,” he whispered against her jaw. He moved their bodies slightly so he had her pressed up against the wall, his lips starting to work in a well-rehearsed pattern over the bare skin of her neck, clearly enjoying that her swept-up hair gave him clear access to his favorite spot below her ear. “You look beautiful,” he sighed, his mouth continuing to explore whatever bare patches of skin her dress provided for him as his hand worked its way down to the slit of her dress, pushing it aside to move up her thigh.

Just as Mike’s hand under her dress was starting to move higher, a loud voice cut through the sounds of fabric rustling and lips moving against skin.

“I swear to God, Mike Lawson, if you mess up the hard work I did on my girl’s hair and makeup, I will kill you with my bare hands!”

“To be continued,” Mike whispered against her cheekbone before turning to face Evelyn Sanders shaking her finger at them both.

“You two need to keep your hands off each other, or you're never going to make it there on time,” she chided in mock annoyance before turning to Mike as Ginny slipped out of his arms to grab her matching white clutch. "You going to take care of my girl, Lawson?"

Ginny couldn’t help but smile as she heard Mike's unwavering, "Always." She checked her phone to make sure she had no new messages from Amelia and mentally walked over her agent’s plan again: Walk the red carpet together, if anyone asks say you’re very happy, and remember that you don’t need to make an official statement tonight.

_Easy enough_ , she said to herself as she and Mike walked out of the suite and dropped Evelyn off at her and Blip’s room. But as Mike’s fingertips resumed their gentle path up and down the inside of her thigh on the short ride to the show, she wondered if she would be able to remember any plan with him touching her like that—like she was something precious, something beautiful, something wanted.

“You ready, Rookie?” he asked her as the car stopped at the foot of the red carpet, and she was reminded of all the times he had asked her that before taking the field—forever her partner, on the field and off.

She responded the way she had so many times before—from her first win to the World Series to the first time he kissed her and pulled away, hope and fear waging war in his eyes—with a short nod. She trusted him with her pitches, and she trusted him with her heart. It was finally time to show that to the world.

\----

Ginny hated red carpets—all the disorienting flashes and people yelling her name. But it was better with Mike by her side, his steadying hand on her waist. And as they slipped inside the theater, she knew the pictures of them holding hands would be all over Twitter in the next 10 seconds, but the thought didn’t scare her anymore.

_Besides, that’s what Eliot was for, right?_

As they spotted their seats in the front row, Ginny let out a quiet shriek of excitement, bouncing up and down in her sparkly stilettos.

“Oh my God—we’re next to Serena Williams! Am I dreaming?”

Mike’s hand on the small of her back slipped a little lower as he pressed his lips to her ear. “I can pinch you to make sure, if you want.”

Ginny rolled her eyes affectionately. “You are such a dirty old man.”

“And you love it,” Mike replied with a wink.

\----

The ceremony was a blur of cheesy jokes, weird presenter pairings, and montages of the year’s best moments—including Ginny striking out batter after batter in her World Series debut. But Ginny was having trouble focusing on anything but her nerves as the Best MLB Player category got closer. It was just a dumb award, she kept trying to tell herself, but it was a dumb award she really wanted to win. She’d won Best Female Athlete the year before, and she treasured that trophy. But to win this award meant she was finally accepted for who she’d always wanted to be—a ballplayer, and a good one.

So when the time came and it was her name that was called, the joy the cameras captured on her face was entirely genuine. She turned to Mike, who looked even happier than she felt, and she squeezed his hand before taking the walk up the stairs to the stage with shaking legs, suddenly remember how much she hated talking—especially talking about herself—in public. So she took a deep breath and started the only way she could.

“First of all, I want to thank my dad, whose memory inspires me to work hard every day. I hope I’m making you proud, Dad.” She could feel her voice breaking, but she pushed through, thinking that the last thing her father would have wanted was for her to start crying on national television.

“Mom and Will, you have been there for me long before we ever dreamed it would get this far. Thank you. Thanks also to my agent Amelia who fights for me every day, my GM Oscar who took a chance on something that could have been a total disaster when he signed me, and the entire Padres organization, especially our skipper Al and all my amazing teammates who are my brothers and who I share this award with.”

She knew she could end there, but there was something else she’d been hoping she’d get the chance to say since the day her mom came home with that dress.

“Finally, I know there are girls out there watching who think they have to give up some part of themselves to play the sport they love. And to those girls I want to say, I hope that seeing me up here helps you believe that you can be whoever you want to be. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice any part of yourself to follow your dreams.” She locked eyes with Mike and smiled at his encouraging nod as she continued, “And I hope that you find someone who helps you believe that you are special not just for what you do but for who you are. Mike Lawson, thank you for being that someone for me. I love you.”

As Ginny walked backstage, she realized that she’d actually said those three words out loud to him for the first time. She didn’t mean for them to slip out—especially not at the ESPYs of all places—but she didn’t regret them, either. She felt strangely content, even smiling genuinely as she posed for photos with her trophy before making her way back to her seat for the rest of the ceremony.

Once she sat down, Mike covered her hand with his. “So you love me, huh?”

Her whole body hummed with excitement at the warmth in his voice. She leaned in close as her fingers played with the lapel on his jacket. “Yeah, I do. So what are you gonna do about it?”

\----

Hours later, Ginny’s beautiful white dress was laying at the foot of the bed in her suite, with her matching lace underwear thrown on top of Mike’s wrinkled tuxedo pants.

“I should really pick up that dress,” Ginny mumbled into Mike’s neck as he drew small circles against her naked hip. “Amelia will kill me if anything happens to it.”

“I think we can keep an eye on it from here,” Mike responded with a yawn before bumping her nose with his. “I love you, too, you know,” he said, growing suddenly serious.

“Yeah?” Ginny asked, feeling her grin spread across her face.

“Yeah,” he replied, his thumb tracing the dimple on her left cheek. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

She rolled him onto his back and sat up so she was straddling him, enjoying the way his eyes fluttered closed as she gently moved her hips against his.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” she teased.

Suddenly, she was on her back again, giggling uncontrollably as his fingers found her most ticklish spots and his lips pecked at every inch of her face.

As their laughter faded into deep kisses, Ginny sighed contentedly against his mouth. In this moment—with this man—she felt like maybe she really didn’t have to choose one part of herself or the other anymore. She could be everything she wanted to be, and that was okay.

She had chosen her own adventure, and it was the easiest choice she’d ever made.


End file.
